


The Highs and Lows of Painting with Robots

by rainhours



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Kiibo and Shuichi are roommates for the plot, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Painting, Unexpected friendships, the saiibo is VERY light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23696350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainhours/pseuds/rainhours
Summary: Maybe Kiibo was… asleep?Angie tapped his shoulder and said, “Kiibo… wake up…” But he didn’t wake up. In fact, he fell forward. His face lay right on top of the canvas, and his hair became blotted with pink, from where his head fell directly into the fresh paint...Angie groaned. “This is why I work alone.”Or: in times of artistic crisis, Angie turns to some unexpected friends- and has to deal with an even more unexpected night.
Relationships: K1-B0/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 71





	The Highs and Lows of Painting with Robots

“AAAAAAGH.” 

Angie Yonaga was not having a good night. The clock ticked past 10PM, when she should have been getting ready to go to bed, but the Super High School Level Artist was stuck in her lab working on a painting. The piece was huge, and took two tables pushed together to bear the length of. It needed to be finished before tomorrow night to be hung in the art show, but she was still stuck putting paint to canvas. And it was driving her mad. 

She put her head in her hands and slammed her elbows against the table. Oh, Atua… how am I gonna get out of this one?

Ok, maybe she just needed to look at something that WASN’T her painting. She turned around and stared around the room to refocus her eyes. There’s the lamp, the sink, the chairs, the Shuichi, th- 

The Shuichi?

In the doorway stood two of her classmates. Shuichi Saihara, the Super High School Level Detective, and K1-B0, the Super High School Level Robot, had finished their lab work before Angie. They had been watching her from the open door of the art lab, admiring her painting. 

“Hello, Angie!” K1B0- better known as Kiibo- said. “You seemed to be hard at work, and we wanted to see what you were doing. We hope we weren’t much of a distraction.”

A distraction? No, more like Angie’s miracle! Typically, she preferred to work alone, but desperate times call for desperate measures. She would have to put her own guidance to the test. “Oh, Saihara! Kiibo! How wonderful! Atua has blessed me tonight!” 

“Blessed? Okay, what do you want from us?” Shuichi asked, growing more accusational with every word. 

“Oh, not much. Just… would you be willing to help me with my art project? Atua will bless you for your assistance!” 

Shuichi looked at Kiibo in a “What do you think?” type manner. Kiibo nodded eagerly, to which Shuichi sighed and said, “Sure. What better way to spend a Thursday night.” 

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” Suddenly bursting with enthusiasm, she grabbed their hands and tugged them into the lab. The smell of paint hung thick in the air. 

Angie gave them a brief rundown of how to control their brushes, and what needed to be painted what color. “I will trust you two to do the flat colors. I will add the highlights later, as they are what make my art, well, my art! Just get those on the canvas and I will be very happy.” 

The trio worked together for about an hour. Angie nagged the two about their paintbrush-holding techniques, how they moved the paint around on the canvas, and how much paint they used. Kiibo was willing to accept her critiques, but Shuichi quickly lost his patience. He couldn’t “get” Angie’s style to her liking, and he constantly found her breathing down his neck about little errors.

Eventually, he slammed down his brush and said, “Alright, I’m gettin’ kinda tired, and this paint smell is making me feel weird in the head. I’m goin’ to my room, have fun with your art, and make sure Kiibo doesn’t do anything… dangerous.” 

Kiibo quickly protested, “Shuichi! I would never do anything dangerous. What is dangerous about art?” 

Angie chuckled. “Oh, you have no idea.” 

Shuichi sighed and left, footsteps pounding with frustration. 

“What’s his deal?” Angie asked. 

“He’s not much of an artist,” Kiibo replies, “and he’s probably like you when he is. He likes to work alone, much like you.” 

The rest of their time flew by quickly. Kiibo had quickly picked up Angie’s technique, which pleased her greatly. The two worked together nicely, painting the time away.

A sudden vibration stirred Kiibo from his work. “BATTERY 10%. LOCATE CHARGING P-“ 

He quickly shut off the voice. 

“What was that?” Angie asked. 

“Nothing,” Kiibo lied. “Just a maintenance reminder.”

It was nice to hang out with Angie and paint. There was something about her art that always entranced him. Sure, he’d have to give his outer plates a wash, but like Shuichi said, it was a good way to spend a Thursday night. 

He proceeded to mute all incoming alerts. 

“Aah, this looks fantastic!” Angie exclaimed, stepping back to admire her painting. “It appears you didn’t mess it up as badly as I envisioned! Thank you for your assistance, I’ll be able to finish this project up tomorrow just in time!”

But her robotic companion didn’t reply. He just… sat there. There was a strange lack of glow in his eyes, which when lit usually made him very noticeable. Maybe Kiibo was… asleep? 

Angie tapped his shoulder and said, “Kiibo… wake up…” 

But he didn’t wake up. In fact, he fell forward. His face lay right on top of the canvas, and his hair became blotted with pink, from where his head fell directly into the fresh paint. 

“Oh, no no no…” Angie said to herself, gently shaking Kiibo. Upon his lack of a response, she desperately shoved him up and off of the canvas. 

His eyes didn’t open. His head rolled a bit on his neck. The collar of his robot suit read: NO BATTERY. CHARGE NOW. He must’ve been so caught up in painting that he ignored his battery level. (Art has a way of making people do things like that.)

His body suddenly slumped under its own weight, and he tumbled off the chair and- 

landed directly in a can of blue paint. 

Angie groaned. “This is why I work alone.” 

She bent down, gently lifting Kiibo out of the paint can. Paint dotted his body, making him look like a patchwork quilt. Guess this wasn’t such a miracle after all. With all her strength, Angie tugged Kiibo across the floor. His metallic exterior made a horrible screech. She winced, but kept moving to get him onto a clear table. Tug, step, screeeeech. Tug, step, screeeeech. 

“Good gosh, Kiibo, you’re heavy.”

After much strain, Angie was able to place Kiibo in a chair. She kept a tight hold on the robot just in case and looked behind her to assess the state of her paints. It turned out his paint-drenched hair had been dripping onto the floor, along with giant lines made from his feet dragging. The sudden mess on top of everything else made Angie squeal and lose her grip. Kiibo was knocked from her hands and he collapsed halfway into a container of green paint. 

Angie sighed, starting to regret inviting him in. After much more heavy lifting- and some stains on her yellow jacket that she really hoped would wash out- Kiibo was back on the chair. She grabbed a nearby paper towel and wiped off as much paint from his metallic exterior as possible. 

“The one time I ask for help, it comes back around and gets me…” she muttered to herself. 

The paint removal ended up not being as beneficial as Angie hoped, since a lot of it had begun to harden, and the wet portions left long smears of color running up and down Kiibo’s body. Plus, it was very late in the evening, and every second that Kiibo wasn’t in his room meant more suspicions from others.

“Ok, now, let’s get him upstairs…”

Angie kneeled down, put a hand on Kiibo’s back, and pushed him forward, causing him to land on her with a THUMP. Angie winced. “Ow- that's gonna bruise.” 

Wrapping his arms around her neck, she stood up- and nearly died under Kiibo’s weight. 

“AAAAAGH- why?! WHY?!” She exclaimed through gritted teeth. Regardless, she had to get him upstairs and to his room. 

Dragging his feet across the linoleum, and praying they didn’t wake up anyone with the slight squeaking, Angie carry-dragged the unconscious android down the hall and up the stairs. The student rooms all started on the third floor. (Angie prayed that was where Kiibo’s room was. She didn’t know how many more flights of stairs she could manage.) She tried to focus solely on getting Kiibo to his room and off her back, but to her surprise she ran into a tall figure. Looking up, she met the gentle face of Gonta Gokuhara, the Ultimate Entomologist.

“HELLO, ANG-“

“SHHHHH!!!” Angie pressed a finger to his lips, forcing him to shut his yap before they were caught. “Listen, Kiibo passed out during an art project, and-“ She was suddenly struck with an idea. 

“Gonta, you are very strong, correct?” 

“Yes! Gonta is plenty strong!” 

In one swift motion, she rolled the robot off of her shoulders and into Gonta’s arms. 

“Help me carry him. Atua will thank you somehow.” 

The load was much lighter now. Angie balanced his knees on her shoulders, supporting his legs, and Gonta managed the front half of the robot. They looked like construction workers carrying wood, but instead the wood was a sleepy robot. 

As they walked up the stairs, Angie asked, “Gonta, why are you even up at this hour? Shouldn’t gentlemen always be well-rested?” 

“Waiting for nocturnal bugs. You see them active only at night. Worth missing sleep for, but bugs not awake yet.” He replied. “Why is Angie up?” 

“Art project,” she huffed. “At this rate, with Kiibo messing it up and all, I won’t get it done in time for the art show.” 

“Well, Gonta no artist, but… can learn. May I help? Tomorrow?” He asked. 

Angie thought, then replied, “Maybe some other time. Angie has had enough assistance for now. But Atua says you should always be willing to teach others. And hopefully, Shuichi will return!” 

“Oh, Shuichi! Shuichi and Kiibo are very close friends. They even share a room!” 

Angie stopped dead in her tracks. Gonta kept walking, leaving Kiibo’s legs to slide off Angie’s shoulders and hit him in the back. He turned around to see a distraught Angie, frozen in place, eyes wide with horror. 

“Shuichi shares a room with Kiibo.” 

Fuck. (Sorry, Atua, but a woman’s gotta speak her mind sometimes.) 

“They share a room… because Shuichi was the only person who could tolerate his constant presence… oh no, Shuichi‘s probably still up too! How will we get past him with this near-dead Kiibo on our shoulders? We’ll be dead next, I’m sure of it!”

“DEAD?! NO DEAD!!” Gonta nearly screamed. “GONTA WANT TO LIVE!” 

“No, no! Just… Shuichi will be mad that we let his friend run out of battery! We must be quiet! And inconspicuous!” 

Gonta nodded, eagerly smiling at Angie. In a flash of genius, Angie suggested they reposition the body so it didn’t look so suspicious. Kiibo was moved from his corpse-like position on their shoulders to a stance where one arm was draped over each of their backs, so he was upright. This move made the group look less like a burial procession and more like a friendly group of comrades coming back from a fun night.

They eventually reached a room marked “C-22” with a hand-drawn nameplate below it that read “SAIHARA, SHUICHI AND KIIBO, KIIBO ''. (“Kiibo, Kiibo” was a running joke among the students- and some teachers.) 

Angie dug around in Kiibo’s pockets until she found his key and opened the door. She nudged it open as quietly as possible and led Gonta inside, still cradling half of the robot in his arms. A loud THWACK sound came from behind them.

“Hey, Angie?” 

“Yes?” 

“Can you tell Gonta what inconspicuous means?” 

“JUST. BE. QUIET.”

“Keeeeeebo?” 

Angie looked up to see a tired Shuichi, dressed in sweatpants and a shirt that read “Academy For Gifted Juveniles”. His hat was slung sideways on his head. 

“It’s so late… are you feeling okay? What’s your battery percent….” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Angie and Gonta shot looks of panic at each other just as Shuichi began to see that Kiibo was not alone. 

“Wh- ANGIE?! WHY IS GONTA HERE?! AND WHY DOES KIIBO LOOK LIKE A WALKING PRIDE FLAG?!”

“I- uh- he- “ 

“KIIBO DIED.” Gonta shouted, nearly in tears.

“GONTA, NO!!! KIIBO DID NOT DIE.” 

“THEN WHY IS HE NOT ALIVE?!” He shouted back. 

Angie tried to explain Kiibo’s state while Gonta continued to be distraught at the state of his friend. Their statements blended together in a kind of miscommunication stew, growing louder and louder until- 

“KNOCK. IT. OFF.”

Angie and Gonta stopped. 

The sudden interjection came from... Shuichi. Even he seemed surprised that he could be that loud.

Shuichi took a deep breath and removed his hat, wringing it in his hands. “He isn’t dead, Gonta. He is just… very tired. He needs to rest.” 

“You sure, Shuichi?” 

“Absolutely sure.” 

He thought for a moment, then sighed happily. “That good. Rest well, Kiibo.” He then bent down and gently patted Kiibo’s head. 

“And really, it’s okay. I can manage. I… I have done a lot of research on hi- his model. Of robot. I can get him set up to charge.” 

“Can we get the paint out while Kiibo charges?” Angie asked. 

“No. It requires water, and he has- well, prefers to be awake for that process. So, I think we’ll move him to his charging port-“ Shuichi pointed to a corner of the room opposite his bed where a large panel of wires, lights and buttons flashed- “charge him up, and then wash him in the morning. If you guys could help me move him, that’s really the only hard part. The rest I can do by myself.”

Angie nodded in agreement, and stepped forward to help. Shuichi took one arm, and Angie took the other. She turned around to see if Gonta could help. “Uh… Sorry to bother, but Gonta has bugs to watch. I leave now. Good night.” 

The two said their goodbyes as they navigated Kiibo to his charging station.

“I’ll have to thank him in the morning,” she said, thinking out loud. “If he hadn’t helped me, I probably would still be dragging Kiibo up the stairs right now.” 

“Yeah. Hey, speaking of, sorry about storming off earlier. I kinda prefer to fly solo, but I… I just… I just wish this didn’t hafta get complicated. If I was there, this wouldn't have happened.”

“I forgive you, Shuichi. Some people need distance, others need assistance. And we all have to learn to understand when the time is right to accept either.” 

“That was… deep.”

“Sometimes Atua just lets you think well. Hey, this is kind of out of the blue, but how do you sleep with so many lights on?” Angie asked. Shuichi plainly answered, “Fall asleep facing the other way.” 

Angie groaned as she shoved Kiibo into the port. Damn, he really was heavy. Shuichi cut in front of her and opened a giant hatch on Kiibo’s back. Inside was filled with ports, sensors, and switches. Angie’s eyes went wide, but Shuichi remained calm. 

“Typically he does it himself, but usually then he has at least some power left. One night I had him explain the process to me, and I learned it just in case.” 

They stepped back and admired their work. 

“Hey, Shuichi. You’re very knowledgeable when it comes to Kiibo,” Angie smirked. “I was a little surprised you took him in as your roommate.”

Shuichi started to turn red. “W- well, I know how he feels about, um, certain classmates, and w- eh, we were close enough- a- as FRIENDS. And he- he’s just good to have around, yknow!”

Angie gave him a knowing smile, one that clearly read through him and saw how he felt about the robot. However, she didn’t say anything else on the matter. “Well, I should get going. Thank you for your assistance today, Shuichi. With everything. If you need any help cleaning him off, I… may be available.”

“No problem. Sleep well.”

Kiibo was motionless in the charging station, the green bar on his collar completely full to indicate he had charged up properly. Shuichi slept peacefully next to him, head resting on the side of the port. A book lay on his lap, covered by a blue blanket taken from his bed. 

Gradually, Shuichi woke up and came to terms with his improvised sleeping arrangement. 

He began to say “Shit, why didn’t I sleep in my own bed la-“ but then he remembered. This was the first time Kiibo had ever lost power so suddenly. Normally he would make a big deal out of his battery level, and was constantly concerned with how robotic he seemed. Him completely losing power was very out of the ordinary. So Shuichi decided to stay by the robot’s side for a while, and maybe do some light reading. But he must’ve gotten too caught up and fallen asleep right here. Wow, he really was attached to him. 

Gently, he leaned Kiibo forward, and disconnected and unplugged everything. He pressed a button on Kiibo’s back, and suddenly the robot’s body began to make whirring sounds. 

A loud robotic voice blared from some well hidden speaker: “RESTART COMPLETE. OPERATION BEGIN. HELLO. I AM K1-B0. WHAT CAN I-“ 

Shuichi pressed another button, which loaded his most recent save file, and leaned the robot back so he could sit on his own. Kiibo shook his head, flecks of paint flying out of his hair. He blinked and glanced around the room, confusion dawning on his face. 

“Shuichi? Did I… what happened?” 

“Your batteries ran out while painting with Angie. She- and Gonta- carried you up here. You’re still kinda… covered in paint, however.” 

He maneuvered his head down and looked at his hands, which were coated with paint.

“Oh, no. I am sorry for any problems I caused. I hope I didn’t cause too much damage to Angie's art.” 

“No, Kiibo, it’s okay. She and I can fix it.” He placed a hand on Kiibo’s shoulder to comfort him. “But for now, we just gotta get you cleaned up, okay? Your hair looks like wet cotton candy, and you reek of paint.”

“Ah. Did I fall? And did I land in the paint?” 

“You fell many times, according to Angie. Into multiple containers of paint.” 

Kiibo made a noise of disappointment in himself. Shuichi couldn’t help but chuckle. There was something about that robot that always made him smile. 

Angie’s intuition was right. He… did kinda, sorta, maybe, possibly, probably, like Kiibo. 

“Now, let’s clean you up.”

**Author's Note:**

> did y’all know that keebo weighs 196 pounds? damn 
> 
> i haven’t written a fic in a long while, so sorry about any mischaracterizations or awkward plot things. 
> 
> hope y’all enjoyed it!  
> 


End file.
